


Its's Not the Way You Think That Turns Me On

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Smallville RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drama, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-24
Updated: 2006-09-24
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:32:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Next installment in the new otp 'verse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** It’s Not the Way You Think That Turns Me On  
 **Characters:** Smallville!Jensen/GilmoreGirls!Jared  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word Count:** 5, 563  
 **Disclaimer:** No.  
 **Summary:** Next installment in the [ new otp ‘verse](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/tag/new+otp+'verse).  
 **Notes:** This fic would like to thank [ ](http://la-folle-allure.livejournal.com/profile)[**la_folle_allure**](http://la-folle-allure.livejournal.com/) for making sure it didn’t suck. *hugs and naked Jensen*  
  
  
  
  
  
  
So, Jensen asked him to come to Vancouver.  
  
Okay, he hadn’t exactly _asked_ per se, but it was a little too late to be worrying about it now. He was already high in the sky, listening to the gentle purr of the jetliner as it barreled straight toward Canada. A quick glance at his watch showed his flight was right on time. Sure enough, he could already feel the plane approaching its descent, just as the pilot’s garbled voice came on to confirm.  
  
Strangely enough, Jared didn’t feel all that nervous about popping up on Jensen unexpectedly. After all, he _had_ mentioned coming up to Vancouver… maybe not this exact weekend or anything, but he _had_ mentioned it. Of course there was a very good chance Jensen might not even _be_ there – having taken off early for LA for some R &R - and if that was the case, Jared would feel like an absolute fucking dipshit.  
  
He was quickly coming to realize some of the downsides of being involved with a guy. For one, a _distinct_ lack of communication. There was no one calling to figure out every last detail of his life for him, no one checking in to the point of annoyance. At first Jared had considered it a blessing, being a guy himself and thus prone to the ol’ “see ya when I see ya” way of thinking. He was a little chagrined to discover that there was something to be said for the whole girly keeping in touch thing. Something like flying to another friggin’ country without really knowing if your boyfriend was even gonna _be_ there.  
  
 _Boyfriend_. Jesus. It was still enough to make him squirm, even if they hadn’t really officially labeled it that. Well, there had been that _one_ discussion after Jensen had visited him in Los Angeles, but it’d come directly on the heels of some _seriously_ hot fucking… that Jared couldn’t really think about at the moment because he was gonna be walking through an airport terminal soon.  
  
But even he wasn’t sure if a simple “I don’t, you know, I don’t think we should fuck anyone else” from his own mouth and a subsequent “Hmm” from Jensen’s really…counted.  
  
As anything.  
  
God, Megan would be laughing her ass off if she could hear him now.  
  
He tugged at his collar, starting to feel the bite of anxiety he thought he’d successfully pushed back, as the Canadian skyline came into sharp focus through the clouds. He glanced over to see the flight attendants buckling themselves in for landing, and ignored the tingle in his stomach as the nose of the plane dipped.  
  
It wasn’t like he didn’t have a backup plan, after all. Tom had been trying to get him to come up for months, but Jared had been happy in the States and California. Plus, he fucking _hated_ the cold – Texas boy through and through – and he’d seen enough photos of Tom and Mike in their parkas and toboggans to firmly dissuade himself from the idea. And yeah, so Canada might not be _that_ cold, but Jared wasn’t taking any chances.  
  
Tom hadn’t asked any questions when Jared called and mentioned he was coming up. He just offered up a guest room in his home and told Jared where to find the spare key since he’d be busy filming all night and wouldn’t make it back until morning.  
  
Tom thought he just needed a break from the L.A scene, from work - which he desperately did. Jared was so fucking close to losing it over the total clusterfuck the writers were working Dean into, that he knew he needed some time and space from all of it before he snapped. And if he had a few scripts waiting for him when he got back to Los Angeles, well, no one had to know. Yet. Pilot season was coming up and he refused to feel guilty about dipping his toe in the water and seeing what else was out there besides playing Rory Gilmore’s fucked-up boyfriend for the rest of his career.  
  
His agent had been raving about one in particular, reassuring him that _this_ …this was the one, the show Jared had been waiting for, blah blah etcetera. He’d only had a short time to look over the script before taking off for Vancouver, but he was intrigued. Something about two brothers, road tripping…sort of a mini drive-in horror movie every week. It didn’t sound as campy as some of the other WB horror/dramas. At least he felt he could identify with both characters, which was something he hadn’t felt in Dean Forrester for longer than he cared to admit.  
  
He’d have to take another look at the script when he got back. He had to be absolutely certain if it would be worth severing his ties with _Gilmore Girls_. As much as he bitched about it all – and he did, _quite_ a bit – Lauren and Amy and hell, even _Alexis_ were pretty much his family. The new script might have him heading straight for the unemployment line, but there was something in his gut telling him that _this_ would be his chance to break free of Alexis - and really, for a girl as small as she was, she cast a _hell_ of a shadow - and that alone almost made the uncertainty and instability worth it.  
  
But all that aside, Jared didn’t have to come up to Vancouver to get away from the bullshit of Hollywood. He could’ve just as soon gone home to San Antonio, spent time with the friends he’d gone way too long without seeing, driven his family crazy. Or he could go to Vancouver and fuck the living daylights out of Jensen Ackles.  
  
Jared was a little freaked out by how quickly – and easily – the decision had been made.  
  
  
 

***

  
  
  
The first thing he saw when he stepped out of the gate was Michael Rosenbaum, dark glasses covering his eyes and expression blank. Jared’s eyes scanned the large handmade sign in Mike’s hands.  
  
_Deanne Forrester._ Fucking Mike.  
  
As soon as Mike caught a glimpse of him, his face broke out into mingled awe and excitement, and he came bounding up to Jared’s side like an overeager puppy dog. “Oh, my _God_ …it’s _you!_ ” he cried out in a scarily perfect mimicry of the barista at Starbucks who was a _big_ fan of the show.   
  
Jared rolled his eyes and grabbed the sign, folding it in half and tucking it under his arm. “You’re such a bitch,” and the sign went into the first trashcan they passed as Mike laughed and clapped him on the back.  
  
“Tom’s running over on a scene, so he sent me to play Welcome Wagon.” Mike spread both arms wide open to encompass the airport, walking backward and grinning at Jared. “Welcome to the glorious land of _real_ beer and beavers, eh?”  
  
“What do you think you are, an actor?” Jared deadpanned. “That was awful, dude.”  
  
“Blow me, Mr. Rory.” Mike looped an arm around Jared’s shoulders, which - due to the height difference - was hysterical, and they set out toward baggage claim together. Mike yammered on and on the entire way about everything from work to the most recent night of debauchery and drunken karaoke. Jared was only half-listening until he caught Jensen’s name.  
  
“…and Jensen’s sitting there with three fucking _trashed_ college chicks, right? Doesn’t do a damn thing with any of them,” Mike was saying, shaking his head woefully as they passed the rental car counters. Mike paused, and then laughed to himself. “Which might’ve been a good thing, actually. I’ve seen those girls _around_ …probably got the clap or something,” he emphasized with a thunderous smack of his hands.  
  
“You’re such a gentleman,” Jared stated wryly, but he was still processing what Mike had inadvertently revealed. So Jensen wasn’t out taking advantage of the offers Jared had _known_ he was getting thrown at him from every direction?  
  
Interesting.  
  
Then again, maybe those girls just hadn’t been up Jensen’s alley. From what Jared had seen, they kinda lacked the right equipment.  
  
He wondered if Mike and Tom had any idea about Jensen’s, er, proclivities. Judging by the whole “Let’s get Jensen laid by a drunken fan” mission - that had sparked ‘The Incident’ between him and Jensen to begin with - Jared had to wager that his friends probably didn’t. Which was kind of amusing, because all you really had to do was watch Jensen for any given amount of time to realize he had zero chemistry with chicks.  
  
Not that Jared was about to admit to watching fucking _Smallville_ or anything. He wasn’t _that_ obsessed.  
  
Okay, he’d seen an episode or two. It was fucking _Smallville_ for chrissake, and Tom was a really good friend. But still. It had nothing to do with Jensen, or with watching Jensen make out with Kristin and telling himself “Oh yeah. He’s not enjoying that a bit. Not at all”.  
  
It didn’t, because that would be lame.  
  
Bags finally in hand nearly a half-hour later, Jared followed Mike out of the airport into the crisp Vancouver air. “Jesus _Christ_ ,” he muttered, already starting to regret his decision as he was blasted with a chilly breath of wind.   
  
“Get over it, Texas,” Mike snorted and steered Jared toward his car. Or what Jared assumed to be his car – there was a very high probability that Mike stole it – because Mike was more than slightly crazy – but Jared was gonna just pretend Mike was a normal human being and therefore the car was his.   
  
Jared didn’t know Vancouver from a hole in his head, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize they weren’t headed toward Tom’s home. The farther they drove, the more isolated the buildings were, and Jared finally looked over and quipped, “You know, no matter how hard you try, I’m not gonna let you take me without a fight.”  
  
“You wish,” was all Mike said, cranking up the radio and drumming his fingers against the steering wheel to the tune of (oh Christ) Culture Club. “Fuckin’ 80’s, man. Back when music was _music_ you could get drunk and sing to.”  
  
“What is it with you and gay guys named George?” Jared pondered, idly glancing out the window as several buildings came into focus. It all became clear in an instant. “We’re going to set?”  
  
He felt like such a fucking idiot when his heart sped up, pulse running thick at the idea of seeing Jensen at work. Of just seeing Jensen again _period_. It’d been a little over three months since Jensen had popped down to surprise him at the L.A network party, and the night had ended with Jared getting fucked in the back of Jensen’s rental and the whole “flights to Vancouver are cheap at the beginning of the year” bullshit sliding off Jensen’s tongue so easily, Jared half-wondered if he’d only imagined it. That little tidbit had kept him up for nights after thinking _what the hell am I doing?_  
  
He still didn’t have a clue.  
  
“Orders from The Man himself…the _Super_ man,” Mike snerked and Jared blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts to focus on the situation at hand as they pulled into the studio’s parking lot. Mike cut the engine and turned to face Jared with as serious an expression as Jared had ever seen on his features. “Now, try not to get too excited,” Mike began, “I know you’re going to be seeing some pretty famous people, and it sometimes gives a person the urge to—”  
  
“Oh, fuck _off_ ,” Jared guffawed, instantly forgetting any of the concerns that had previously flown through his mind. “How come nobody’s put a hit out on you yet, Rosey?”  
  
“Pfft, people love me, bitch.” Mike blew him a kiss and started off, and Jared shook his head and followed, smile fading as he searched the people milling around for a familiar face and green eyes.  
  
He saw Tom the second they walked on-set, and Jared’s lips quirked as he watched Clark, tied-up and sweaty, arguing with a bizarrely dressed Kristin, Erica, and Allison. He stopped to watch the scene for a bit, momentarily forgetting about Jensen as he filed all this away to torment Tom later. The baby oil smeared across Tom’s abs caught the afternoon sun, nearly blinding, and Jared looked away and used a fake cough to hide his snicker.  
  
When the scene ended, Tom immediately started snapping for someone to cut him down because his arm was going numb, and Erica reached up and tickled him, resulting in a flurry of cursing and laughing, and Jared turned to Mike.  
  
“So, everyone’s working today but you?” he asked, hoping the question seemed casual enough. Mike was too adept at picking up on even the most subtle of nuance, and the last thing Jared needed right now was the nosy bastard poking around in his brain and figuring out shit _Jared_ had yet to figure out himself.  
  
“Nah, John’s off, too. Jensen was here earlier, but he finished up pretty quick and went home.” Mike cocked his head. “Why do you look all nervous, Jared?”  
  
Jared wanted to sigh. “Not nervous, Mike,” he said easily, offering a lazy smile as Tom caught sight of them and started over. “Just curious.”  
  
Mike’s eyes narrowed. A smile broke out across his features and he leaned in close to whisper, “Something’s up with you, and you know I’m gonna figure it out, boy. Why don’t you just save me the trouble and—”  
  
“Hey!” Tom (thankfully) interrupted, wiping himself down with a towel as Jared turned to him with an almost pleading expression. “Let me get cleaned up and we can get outta here, okay?”  
  
“Sure thing,” Jared agreed quickly.  
  
They left Mike standing there, and Jared refused to react when he heard the, “I’m still gonna figure it out!” called after him.  
  
“What the hell is he talking about?” Tom laughed, not really looking all that concerned.  
  
Jared shrugged. “Guy’s crazy.”  
  
Tom laughed again, and Jared could see the genuine affection Tom held for his best friend with his quick smile. “Yeah, he is. Anyway, we’re going to some bar Mike picked tonight…you’re in, right? Or you wanna crash?”  
  
“No, I’m in,” Jared said, a little too quickly. “Who all’s going?”  
  
“Everyone,” Tom said, and that was all Jared needed to hear.  
  
  
  
 

***

  
  
  
  
The “bar” Mike had chosen was more of a seedy dive than anything else, and Jared bit his lip to keep from laughing outright when Tom got a good look at the place.   
  
“We’re all gonna catch something and die,” Tom muttered into his hand, and Jared’s laugh broke free as they walked through the parking lot together.  
  
“Yeah, probably. But what do you wanna bet the music is ‘stellar, dude’,” he added, mocking with an ease that only came from having born witness to Mike’s ridiculous travesties.  
  
“What does music matter when we’re all gonna get syphilis?”  
  
“You should get that written on a shirt, man.”  
  
Tom socked him on the arm as they walked in, and Jared’s grin went from lazy to nervous when he immediately caught sight of the rest of the _Smallville_ gang sequestered in the back of the bar. Jensen was there, plastered against Erica Durance and looking vaguely amused and relaxed in a way Jared had never really seen him act. There was always this thread of tension woven throughout Jensen whenever they were together, and Jared hadn’t really noticed it until now.  
  
Mike yelled Tom’s name, and the entire table looked their way. Jared met Jensen’s gaze across the smoky room, watching as Jensen’s fingers froze around the butt of a cigarette. Jared had to bite back a hysterical laugh when Jensen’s arm fell from around Erica and he sat up so quickly that his elbow collided with an empty glass, sending it rolling across the wooden floor.  
  
“Okay, you’re cut off, Jen,” Erica was laughing as they approached, and Jared smirked a little as Jensen just blinked heavy-lidded eyes at him, completely missing Erica’s teasing statement.  
  
“Hey, guys,” Jared said easily, while keeping his eyes on Jensen. He wondered if he could hear the hidden, “Surprise, baby”.  
  
There was a chorus of greetings, some more exuberant than others as Rosenbaum jumped up and caught him in a ridiculously gay man-hug, but Jensen just kind of sat there and continued to stare at him. Jared’s smile faltered, only because he couldn’t really read Jensen’s expression.  
  
“How long are you here for, Jared?” Kristin asked politely, and Jared turned his attention toward the pretty brunette, still feeling Jensen watching him.   
  
“Uh, a few days.” He shoved his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie, keeping track of Jensen’s movements from the corner of his eye. “Just felt like a vacation.”  
  
“And you picked Canada?” Allison chortled, moving over to make room for him. Jared slid in as she reached up and ruffled his hair. “You’re so cute, Jared. You could’ve gone to Tahiti or Bermuda, and instead you came to _Vancouver_.”  
  
Jared’s gaze flicked to Jensen. “I dunno…it’s got its benefits.”   
  
Jensen signaled for another beer.  
  
“Well, you’re just in time,” Mike said with a devilish gleam in his eye. He threw an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and added, “I was just talking my boy Jenny here into gifting us all with a little song. Eh, Jenny?”  
  
Jensen shrugged him off amidst the laughter, cheeks burning bright. “Don’t fucking call me that,” he grumbled, and his eyes met Jared’s for the briefest of seconds. “And I’m not singing anything.”  
  
“Oh, come _on_. You were totally about to do it. What, you nervous now that Jare Bear’s here?”  
  
Jared stared at Mike. “Jare Bear?”  
  
“Everyone needs a nickname.” Michael shrugged.  
  
“Okay,” Jared agreed easily, slouching back with an arm behind Allison. “Rosen _bum_.”  
  
“Play nice, boys,” Erica tsked, standing up. “I gotta go…some of us have to _work_ in the morning.”  
  
Tom groaned. “By which, she means me.” He clapped Jared on the back and added, “See you at home later, okay?”  
  
Jared glanced up, reading Tom’s expression and knowing his friend just wanted to get the hell out of the place. “Yeah, sure. I’ll call a cab.”  
  
“Cool, cool. Later guys.” And then Tom was gone. Erica was saying goodbye to the girls, and Rosenbaum was arguing with the bartender over which type of lager would get you drunk the quickest.  
  
Jared looked over at Jensen and smiled. “So…hi.”  
  
“Hey.” Jensen’s lips twitched and he slumped back in his seat, studying Jared under his lids while twirling a toothpick through his fingers. “Fancy seeing you here.”  
  
His voice was full of that dry amusement that never failed to send Jared into a nervous tailspin. He still had yet to figure out if Jensen was pleased or annoyed. “You uh, you don’t mind, right?” he asked, low and discreet as Jensen’s expression remained carefully blank.  
  
There was a pause, and then Jensen tilted his head. “Would it matter if I did?”  
  
And Jared felt like a complete moron. He managed a tight smile, sitting back and looking away to where Mike was now hitting on a poor waitress, although the woman seemed more delighted than anything else to have TV’s Lex Luthor hanging all over her like a drunken fool.  
  
He was trying to think of something to say, to come up with some reason to leave without giving his disappointment and mortification away, when something nudged his foot underneath the table. He gave a small start, gaze snapping up to find Jensen smiling at him.  
  
“I don’t mind.” It was said so quietly that Jared didn’t hear it so much as just read Jensen’s lips forming the words, but it was enough to have him unclenching his fists and relaxing a bit as he nodded and trapped Jensen’s foot between his own.  
  
“Well, good.” He blew out a breath, sending his bangs scattering. “Because you asked me to come, you know.”  
  
Jensen’s brows rose and he sank back in his seat, a distinct twinkle in his eyes. “Did I?”  
  
And Jared had to laugh. “Eat me, dude.”  
  
“Keep up the sweet talk…” Jensen murmured, eyes darkening as Mike came up to the table. Jensen’s tongue swept across his lips and Jared froze, completely enthralled by the gleam of saliva on that mouth in the dim light of the bar. He squirmed in his seat, mind immediately rewinding back to the last time he’d had those lips wrapped around him.  
  
“Darts, bitches!” was all Mike said, totally oblivious to the undercurrents at the table and, thankfully, to the fact that Jared was more turned on than the fucking electric company. He slapped his hands down on the tabletop, gaze shifting between Jared and Jensen. “Stop acting like girls, and let’s go throw sharp metal projectiles at the wall like men.”  
  
Jensen rolled his eyes, but there was fond amusement on his face as he got up and rolled his shoulders in a slow, sinuous movement that had Jared swallowing. “You’re on,” he drawled, eyeing Mike with a smirk. “And this time, crying isn’t gonna get you off the hook when it’s all over.”  
  
Mike giggled – honest-to-God fucking _giggled_ \- and Jared swallowed a snort. “Paddywhack Attack! You in?”  
  
“You know, I’ve always really hated you,” Jared said conversationally, following them to the back of the room where dartboards decorated the brick wall.  
  
“Aw, that’s so sweet…Pada-wada-ding-dong,” Mike cooed, gathering up several darts and slapping them against his hand. “Who goes first?”   
  
Two hours and three rounds of darts and alcohol later, Jared was beginning to rethink his opinion of Rosenbaum as a moronic bald jackass. He was still bald, still a jackass, but the fact that he’d managed to school both Jared and Jensen with some weird-ass form of dart-play he’d apparently learned while on vacation in India (wait, _what_?) and Jared just couldn’t really continue to think of him as a _total_ idiot.  
  
“Good game,” Mike was saying, expression and tone gracious as Jensen made a face at the spot where his final dart had landed – miles short of the bull’s eye. “Now gimme my money, bitch.”  
  
“We weren’t playing for money,” Jensen grumbled, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. Jared watched, pleasantly tipsy and more than a little enamored as the dim lighting picked out every burnished strand in Jensen’s hair and the flush coloring his cheeks. Jensen turned and caught him staring, and he dropped his gaze, feeling stupidly shy and awkward for some reason he couldn’t understand with the beers clouding every brain cell he possessed.  
  
This fucking sucked. He could _feel_ himself getting all hung up on this guy and he had absolutely no idea what Jensen was even _thinking_. This was all headed someplace bad, Jared just knew it. The fact that he’d flown to another country to see Jensen – and this drunk, all his other excuses flew out the window – was worrisome enough. He didn’t get this involved. He didn’t. Hadn’t that been the reason (well, one of many) everything had gone to hell with Alexis?  
  
He was in his early twenties, for God’s sake. He wasn’t ready to settle down with _anyone_. He wasn’t playing the field by any definition of the word, but he appreciated his freedom. He didn’t want to get bogged and tied down to something before he’d checked his options every which way; only it was hard reminding himself of that when Jensen was around fucking up his mind.  
  
Jared’s lips pulled into a pout and he slumped on his stool, legs crossed at the ankles. “I need to call a cab,” he said to the area at large, squinting a bit when Jensen and Mike continued squabbling over the before-mentioned money bet. “I need to call a cab _now_ ,” he added, louder, feeling silly and petulant and _drunk_.   
  
And stupid.  
  
And horny.  
  
His lids dropped when Jensen _finally_ turned to look at him, and Jared was unable to keep from thinking about just closing the short distance between them, shoving Jensen up against the wall - or to his knees – and branding something of himself on those impassive features. Something Jensen wouldn’t be able to brush off and act all calm and relaxed and untouchable about.  
  
“Then call a cab,” Mike offered reasonably, and Jared shot him the dirtiest look he could muster before looking back at Jensen.   
  
Jensen was rolling the darts in his palm, watching Jared with lidded eyes and a glimmer of something Jared couldn’t read, and then he said, “I’ll take you.”   
  
“What a good Samaritan,” Mike cracked, and Jared stopped listening because he was too busy thinking about being alone with Jensen - in his car - and what could happen and what _had_ happened the last time and holy _shit_ , it was so gonna happen again. That much was clear by the way Jensen was looking at him.  
  
He could totally live with that.  
  
  
 

***

  
  
  
“I can _so_ live with this,” Jared was saying twenty minutes later.  
  
Jensen looked up from between Jared’s legs, eyes dark and lips shiny. “What the fuck are you talking about?”  
  
Jared swallowed hard, feeling the remainder of his intelligence evaporate through the crack in the car window as Jensen continued stroking Jared’s saliva-slickened cock. “Oh, God. What?”  
  
Jensen stared at him, then his lips curved. “You can live with what?” he prompted, lowering his head and licking a hot stripe up the side of Jared’s dick. The guttural growl that came from deep in his throat had Jared’s hips bucking off the seat, hand slapping against the window.   
  
“Oh, _fuck_ me,” he keened low.  
  
“Not this time,” Jensen murmured softly, sucking deep once, twice, and then pulled off with a pop that echoed like a ringing in Jared’s ears. Then Jensen’s mouth was there and he had his fingers wrapped around Jared’s dick, slowly twisting and pulling, and he whispered, “It’s my turn. You’re gonna fuck _me_.”  
  
“What? Here?” Jared felt stupid and slow as Jensen sat up and gave him a grin that was equal parts evil and _so fucking hot_ it made Jared’s cock flinch. “Jensen…” his voice broke a little when Jensen straddled him, all lithe and languid, fingers clenching in Jared’s shirt and pulling him closer.  
  
“Stop talking for five seconds,” Jensen said, and then began nibbling on Jared’s bottom lip. “Do something _else_ with that mouth.”   
  
“God,” Jared groaned, letting Jensen suck on his lip and rock in his lap, hands coming up to Jensen’s ass and squeezing. “I’m kinda…too drunk for this, man.” And boy was _that_ painful to admit. There was nothing more he’d like to do then shove his pants down to his ankles and fuck Jensen silly, but his fingers were fumbling with the buttons of Jensen’s shirt and his brain was all melted-down and bleary.   
  
Jensen let out a little laugh, as his hands trailed down between them, cupping Jared’s dick and rubbing hard. “I think you can handle it if I do all the work.”  
  
_Christ._ Jared swallowed, letting his eyes roam over Jensen’s profile, falling to watch through his lashes as Jensen jerked him off and started mouthing under his jaw. “I don’t have…”  
  
“I do.” Jensen’s voice was rough and desperate. He sat back, twisting to rummage through his pockets as Jared stared at muscled flesh and flat nipples beneath the open shirttails. Moonlight flashed on the small foil packet between Jensen’s fingers, and Jared’s eyes narrowed.  
  
“Wait,” he managed, panting, “why…why do you even have that?”  
  
“Wishful thinking?” Jensen asked, voice low and thrumming. His lips touched the side of Jared’s neck, soft and plush. “Habit?”  
  
Jared wanted that to be enough of an explanation. Hell, he shouldn’t even be _asking_ for one…should’ve already been balls deep inside of Jensen without a care in the fucking world save for if he was gonna have Jensen ride his lap facing backward or forward.   
  
Instead, all he could think about was that damn condom in Jensen’s wallet and why it was _there_ to begin with, and how many more had been used. Jensen was working his own zipper, tongue between his teeth and eyes dark and unfocused.   
  
“Hey, Jen,” he said, head falling back and chest rising shallowly. “Anyone ever tell you…”  
  
“Tell me what?” Jensen’s voice was white-hot and sexy-slow, slurred against Jared’s mouth as he leaned forward and pulled at Jared’s lip with his teeth.  
  
“That you’re really fuckin’ pretty,” Jared sighed into his mouth, fingers clenching on Jensen’s hips, rubbing circles. He felt Jensen freeze against him for the slightest of moments, and then he pulled back to stare down at Jared.  
  
“You think so?” Even through the glaze of alcohol Jared caught the hint of uncertainty flavoring Jensen’s voice. “Pretty, huh?”  
  
“I, uh…” Jared frowned, getting the distinct feeling he’d just royally pissed Jensen off. “I just meant—”  
  
Jensen cut him off immediately, mouth harsh against Jared’s, lifting up enough to shove his jeans down his hips and kick them off within the cramped confines of the car. A few dozen curses and one knock of Jensen’s head against the ceiling later, and Jared was feeling the condom slide over his cock, slick with some lube Jensen magically came up with. He gritted down and whined through his teeth when Jensen held his gaze and sank down over him, rolling his hips so that his cock was pressed up against Jared’s lower belly.  
  
“If I’m pretty, what does that make you?” Jensen wondered, flushed and aroused and straining against him. “Huh?”  
  
Jared’s mouth fell open on a strangled groan, and he dug into the seat deep with his fingers as Jensen fucked himself on Jared’s cock. “I-I dunno…lucky?” he laughed a little, blind and desperate. “ _Fuck_ , Jensen, please…”  
  
“You miss me?” Jensen’s teeth flashed in the darkness.  
  
“God…you know I…” Jared’s words were lost when Jensen bent and licked at his mouth, and he fucked up and into Jensen, hand sliding up to wrap around Jensen’s blood-thickened erection. He tore his mouth away, dropping his head in the crook of Jensen’s shoulder and whispering, “Baby…so good…”  
  
Wet warmth branded his belly a minute later, coming in thick bursts as Jensen jerked and groaned over him. Jared was already over the edge himself, bucking up and pulling Jensen down tight with his free hand.   
  
“Why is this so fucking good?” he heard Jensen choke out, and wished he knew the answer himself.  
  
 

***

  
  
  
“Your mouth is really…wet.”  
  
Jensen let out a little laugh, cheek pressed up against the pillow. “That’s kinda the point,” he mumbled against Jared’s ear, sounding all sleepy and sated, and damn it, Jared was _not_ gonna get hard again this soon.  
  
He just wasn’t gonna.  
  
_Right._  
  
“Just an observation,” he muttered, wanting to smack himself in the back of the head when Jensen rolled away, sitting up and giving Jared a damn decent view of his naked back. “Hey, where you going?” Jared asked, swallowing back the immediate splinter of anxiety and frustration when Jensen reached down for his shirt, shrugging on the cotton material.   
  
Jensen shot a grin over one shoulder. “I’m outta here before you start waxing poetic about my spit, man.”  
  
Jared flushed, but felt a little crack in his nerves when he read the genuine pleasure in Jensen’s eyes. Still, he drawled out the requisite “fuck you” and slumped back into the bed, hoping like hell he looked and sounded as unconcerned as Jensen.  
  
There was a beat of silence during which Jensen tugged his pants up his hips and Jared watched, and then those deep green eyes were piercing him, crinkling at the corners, and Jared felt something in his chest roll over and surrender. “Later, Jay,” Jensen said, leaning over the bed and Jared. He was smiling, but there seemed to be a question lurking behind the amusement.  
  
Jared heard himself saying, “You could stay, y’know”, felt the brush of Jensen’s lips against his with each breath he took, one leg sticking out from beneath the sheets, hooking Jensen by the hips and pulling him closer.   
  
Jensen’s eyes flashed even as he smiled. “Yeah,” he drawled, gently pulling away and straightening to his full height. “I’m not ready to come out to my co-star, thanks.”  
  
“Tom’s passed out. He won’t know.”  
  
Jared could still feel the effects from the bar and the fuck in the backseat of Jensen’s car, his logic all twisted and blurry as he bit his bottom lip in a distinct pout. “C’mon…don’t you wanna stay?”  
  
Jensen was quiet for longer than Jared felt the question deemed necessary, and then he smiled. “I’ll see you later, Jared. Get some sleep.”  
  
Jared would’ve argued, but deep down he knew Jensen was right. They’d managed to sneak into Tom’s house like a couple of giggling teenagers, but getting busted in the harsh light of day was a completely different animal than some drunken midnight fumbling. “Fine, I guess.”  
  
Jensen was almost out of the door when he turned and glanced back at Jared, lying in the middle of the mussed and tumbled sheets. That same indefinable look crossed his expression and then he murmured, “I missed you, too, you know.”  
  
“Yeah?” Jared started to sit up, but Jensen was already gone. 


End file.
